


Big Spooky Fan, Me

by HipHopAnonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Forced Orgasm, Halloween, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Overstimulation, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex Pollen, Very Light Spanking, Very light pussy spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 22:57:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous
Summary: The bookshop has been mysteriously decorated for Halloween, including a table filled with tempting refreshments. Aziraphale and Crowley throw caution to the wind and indulge with surprising (and delightful) results.





	Big Spooky Fan, Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gingerhaole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerhaole/gifts).

> Inspired by Gingerhaole's [Halloween Crowley fanart](https://gingerhaole.tumblr.com/post/188140891887/crowley-invented-slutty-halloween-costumes-pass)
> 
> Does this count as "Doing" This in My Style? :)

The bookshop was decorated from top to bottom in gawdy Halloween adornments; black and orange streamers, banners with Jack-O-Lanterns and skeletons, fake cobwebs strung across the bookshelves, and an array of burning candles. In the center of the room was a card table with an impressive spread of holiday treats - biscuits, cakes, candies galore, a large basket of rosy red apples, crisps and dips, and a large punch bowl filled with a dark liquid.

“Aziraphale, what is all of this?” Crowley asked, a lopsided grin settling onto his face as he came in through the door.

Aziraphale was standing in the middle of all the Halloween festivity, mouth hanging open.

“I-I’ve no idea, Crowley. It wasn’t me. I didn’t do this. It was just … like this when I got back.” He narrowed his eyes at the demon. “Did _you_ do this? You know how I feel about you moving things around in here -”

The demon raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t me! I just got here, too! Thought you might fancy dinner, but,” he smiled, “looks like the party’s here.”

He snapped his fingers and his clothing changed from his usual dark attire to an appropriate Halloween getup. His idea of appropriate anyway. Crowley had imagined some cross between a sexy witch, a Chippendales dancer, and a kinky nightclub patron. The result was a long-sleeved gossamer top adorned with a leather shibari pentagram across his chest, gartered shorts (emphasis on the _short_), thigh high stockings, and ankle boots. The ensemble was topped off with a standard witch’s hat and a cute little demon tail for a laugh. He smiled broadly at Aziraphale and put his palms up with a little _ta-da_ flourish.

Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed pink and he quickly averted his gaze. “Oh, good _lord_, Crowley.”

Crowley’s grin widened. He saw the way the angel sometimes looked at him, and he _liked_ it. It was so easy to get a rise out of the angel just by wearing something skimpy or by saying something just a tiny bit scandalous. He knew that Nanny Ashtoreth had driven Aziraphale _wild_, much to Crowley’s delight.

Aziraphale cleared his throat and wiped at his brow. “Not to spoil your fun, dear, but if it really wasn’t you, then who do you think did this?”

“‘Dunno,” Crowley said, as he sauntered over to the refreshments and helped himself to the punch, ladling the dark beverage into an orange paper cup. He brought the mysterious drink to his lips.

“Wait!” Aziraphale said, panicked. “Do you really think that wise? We’ve no idea where all of this came from!”

“Aw, Aziraphale, you worry too much. It was probably the kids. Or Anathema.”

“This doesn’t really seem like their style, though …”

Aziraphale was fretting. Crowley rolled his eyes. It was just a bunch of silly paper and plastic decorations and some nibbles. Nothing to worry about regardless of who left it. He raised the cup again. Aziraphale clicked his tongue.

“Really, Crowley! Don’t you find this all a bit … _spooky_?”

“I’ve told you before, Angel, big spooky fan, me.”

He downed the drink in three large gulps.

It was delicious. Some combination of cinnamon and apple that burned his throat delightfully. He wondered idly if The Them had raided one of their parents’ liquor cabinet before setting all this up. He grinned, pleased that he’d maybe had some influence on them after all.

Aziraphale watched him carefully, clearly waiting to see if he’d be discorporated by poison or otherwise harmed by the drink. When nothing happened, he visibly relaxed.

“Well, I suppose it _could_ have been Adam and his friends …” Aziraphale eyed the plate of heavily frosted cupcakes.

“Go on, Angel, help yourself,” Crowley said, refilling his cup with the punch and then plucking an apple from the bowl. _Ironic,_ he thought with a chuckle, biting into it.

“Well,” Aziraphale waffled for only a moment before giving in to the temptation, “All right!”

He chose a cupcake from the tray and very carefully unwrapped it, setting aside the paper and then licking a bit of frosting from his fingers.

The punch turned to molten liquid in Crowley’s gut. His face heated, his ears tingled, and his groin erupted into flames. He had to look away lest he start _salivating_ at the sight of Aziraphale sucking on his own fingers. He took another compulsive swig of the drink, swallowing it with some difficulty. _Satan,_ what was wrong with him?

Aziraphale took a dainty bite out of the cake, closing his eyes as he chewed, moaning appreciatively, his little pink tongue slipping out to lick at the errant crumbs around his lips.

From head to toe, Crowley was on _fire,_ practically squirming from the intensity. He stared at Aziraphale, barely able to breathe; a terrible, wonderful ache between his legs making him unsteady on his feet. He discarded his drink and the apple on the table and slunk toward Aziraphale like a demon possessed. The desire to close the distance between the angel and himself was overwhelming.

He leaned forward, mouth close to Aziraphale’s ear and asked, “Is it good?” in a low, husky voice.

Aziraphale’s eyes shot open and he jumped slightly at Crowley’s closeness, but recovered quickly.

“Oh, yes, it’s _scrumptious_,” he said, taking another large bite. He gazed into Crowley’s eyes very intently as he chewed and swallowed. Then he raised the remaining cupcake to the demon’s lips and whispered, “Here, have a taste.”

Aziraphale was looking a bit _funny._ Hell, Crowley was _feeling_ a bit funny, but he was in no state to resist such a delightful temptation.

Without breaking eye contact with Aziraphale, he practically unhinged his jaw (a simple feat for a snake) in order to take the remainder of the cupcake all into his mouth. He took care to drag his tongue over Aziraphale’s fingers in the process, closing his lips over the tips and sucking them clean of the dessert.

“Greedy,” the angel scolded, though his eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and desire. He stared at Crowley’s lips, his own slightly parted, breath coming heavily. “You didn’t save me any.”

Crowley shrugged. Who cared about the _food_ anyway?

“There’s plenty, Angel. Take whatever you like.”

Aziraphale did, pressing his lips against Crowley’s in an instant. It was a sloppy, unpracticed kiss, tongue too insistent and teeth nipping too hard at Crowley’s bottom lip. Aziraphale cupped the back of Crowly’s neck with one hand and ran the other through his hair, knocking the witch’s hat off his head.

It took Crowley more than a moment to process what was happening, the deluge of sensations too staggering to fathom. He could only grasp weakly at Aziraphale’s biceps and whimper as the angel’s hands slid down Crowley’s back, hot against the costume’s flimsy fabric, to grope at his arse. It wasn’t until the backs of Crowley’s thighs bashed into the table, having been corralled against it by Aziraphale’s insistent snogging, that he fully grasped what was happening.

An intense wave of lust washed over him, all tingly and hot, and he returned the kisses more fervently, desperate to taste Aziraphale’s extraordinary and unique holiness he’d only been permitted to scent before. He mouthed up Aziraphale’s jaw, lapped at his ear, and took the lobe between his teeth. Aziraphale sucked the pulsepoint on his neck and Crowley warbled like a dying bird. The angel thrust against him and _Oh!_ Crowley could feel the line of his erection pressed firmly along his hip.

Effort revealed, Aziraphale pulled back, looking a little embarrassed, shocked by his own brazenness. They were both panting, cheeks flushed, eyes misty. Crowley had grown quite damp and hot between his legs, as though his sex might boil over. It throbbed almost painfully, aching to be touched.

“Please,” he murmured, leaning forward and pressing another kiss against the skin of Aziraphale’s hot, blotchy neck. “_Please._”

He could only beg vaguely, unable to articulate exactly what would quell his desperate need. He wanted everything. All his usual bravado had evaporated, as if eons of teasing the angel with double entendres and inappropriate jokes had never happened, and he was suddenly a blushing virgin, torn between passion and nerves.

Thankfully, Aziraphale chose for him. Before he could process it, the angel was quickly working Crowley’s little black shorts over his narrow hips, sliding the garters down, and pushing all of it off over his boots. Aizraphale’s fingers quickly found their way between his legs, exploring Crowley’s sopping folds, gently dipping inside him and then trailing up to press experimentally against the hood of his clitoris.

Crowley’s knees buckled and he made a high, distraught sound, clutching Aziraphale’s shoulders to stay upright. The angel lifted him easily up onto the table, carelessly pushing plates and bowls aside, some of which crashed to the ground, the contents spilling onto the rug.

Crowley’s eyes widened, but Aziraphale only stared back hungrily, shockingly unfazed by the mess he’d just made in his beloved bookshop.

Aziraphale placed his hands on Crowley’s knees and spread him open, kneeling between his legs and gazing reverently at the tidy copper curls framing dark pink lips, already glistening with moisture.

“Lovely,” he said in a husky voice, not at all like he usually sounded. The tenor of it sent a jolt of pleasure to Crowley’s swollen clit.

Crowley blushed, going nearly as red as his hair from his chest to his ears, and he leaned on his elbows, letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades with a groan.

Without so much as a warning, Aziraphale _licked_ him - a wet stripe from taint to clit - and then moaned much like he had after sampling the cupcake, as though Crowley’s cunt were another sweet delicacy laid out on the table for him to enjoy. Aziraphale barely hesitated before diving in for more, lips and tongue greedy and insistent, seeking the taste of every inch.

Crowley could only gasp, his whole body threatening to cramp. He collapsed fully onto his back, one hand going to his mouth to bite at his knuckles, the other flung out to the side, landing atop some sort of squishy pastries, coating his fingers in sticky icing. His stockings had rolled down and were gathered loosely around his ankles. One of his boots slipped off. The leather cross was moving about over his slender chest, grazing against his erect nipples with pleasant shockwaves.

The soft, spongy drag of Aziraphale’s tongue against Crowley’s clitoris was like nothing he’d ever experienced. It seemed Crowley wasn’t the only one with a clever tongue. Aziraphale lapped the wet muscle so quickly across the tender little nub, and it was so _good_ it was nearly unbearable. Crowley’s legs quivered, he gulped for air, and he arched his spine off the table as the tension snapped, and he squeezed Aziraphale’s head tightly between his thighs.

The angel didn’t seem to mind at all, groaning with pleasure as he eagerly pressed his face into Crowley’s orgasm, tongue wriggling inside his pussy, as Crowley’s cunt pulsed again and again against him.

The tightness unwound into a pleasant, tingling warmth, and Crowley was finally able to relax his legs. He let out a breathy sigh and brought his messy fingers idly to his lips to taste the pastries he’d ruined.

Crowley basked in his spent haze, but then Aziraphale ran his hands firmly down Crowley’s thighs, hooking him behind the knees and spreading him wide again. Crowley allowed this, his pussy soaked and more than ready to be fucked. In Crowley’s mind, that was the logical next step. However, Aziraphale’s tongue was back at it instead, brushing relentlessly against Crowley’s swollen, too-sensitive clitoris.

“F-fuck!” Crowley trilled in a shockingly high pitch.

He tried to move, to squirm away, but his legs were like jelly, held firmly in place by Aziraphale’s strong, thick hands. It was too much, the angel’s cruel tongue wrenching sparks of pleasure-pain against the wrung-out organ. It was _too much._

He said as much, begging “Angel, p-please!” and reaching down to push frantically at Aziraphale’s head. “It’s too much!”

“It’s just enough,” Aziraphale answered, barely breaking his stride.

Crowley kicked at Aziraphale’s shoulder, lightly at first, with his bootless foot, and then _hard_ with the boot that still remained.

It did make the angel stop momentarily, drawing back and making a perturbed face that quickly turned downright predatory. Without warning, he stood and pushed Crowley’s knees up, lifting his hips from the table and then _spanking_ him. His pudgy hand smacked sharply against Crowley’s bottom several times, and Crowley yelped. Then Aziraphale delivered a gentle but firm spank right on his cunt, the meaty outer labia taking the brunt of the blow. It sounded _wet_, Crowley’s cunt being thoroughly coated in his slick arousal. His distraught cry came more in shock than at the sting of it.

“_Naughty,_” Aziraphale scolded, giving his pussy another light smack. “You’ve been tempting and teasing me for years. I’ve quite a lot to follow through on, _Demon,_ and I won’t be stopped now.”

The pussy spanks sent the blood rushing and boiling at his groin again, and Crowley ground his teeth, wanting to sob at the desperate ache. He felt a renewed surge of slick trailing down over his buttocks. A strangled whine was the only response he could manage, shaking his head without conviction.

“I’m not finished with you, dear boy,” Aziraphale said, gripping Crowley’s thighs tightly and kneeling between them again. “Why waste such an exquisite effort by stopping at only one orgasm?”

Then he practically attacked Crowley’s clitoris again, licking and sucking mercilessly. Having been duly chastised and now held down quite firmly, Crowley could only uselessly flex his feet, thrash his head from side to side, and warble out high pitched, shuddering cries while Aziraphale ate him through two more orgasms. And then a third, for good measure.

Each wave of pleasure crested sharper than the last and Crowley was _flying_. Or dying. His heart pounded in his ears, chest heaving as he panted and writhed on the table. He knocked several more dishes to the ground and made a frosting and crumb covered mess of himself in the process. His flimsy shirt had torn in several places and was streaked in a variety of food from all his flailing about the refreshments.

This was everything he’d ever wanted and altogether too much. Never in his wildest fantasies had he imagined it would be like _this_. He was a quivering, useless mess at the mercy of Aziraphale’s mouth; melting putty in the angel’s hands.

Finally, _finally_ Aziraphale stood and was unfastening his own trousers and bringing out his cock, pink and thick, a little wet pearl glistening on the dark tip.

Crowley had never wanted a cock inside him so badly. His mouth watered, and he licked his lips, legs falling open without Aziraphale’s urging this time. He was overwrought to near soreness, thighs strained, but seeing Aziraphale’s erection made him want _more_. It was impossible, but he was not yet fully sated. He was slick and gushing, split _open_ and ripe, and so, so empty, beyond ready to be filled. This desire, this _love_ was pained, leaving him bereft, incomplete. Aziraphale could have forced a hundred orgasms from his limp, broken body, and this _need_ would remain just as strong.

“Yes, yes, oh yes!” he babbled on senselessly, wiggling his hips, shamelessly eager.

Aziraphale, cruel angel, dragged his cockhead torturously up and down Crowley’s cunt, chafing his overworked clit, before mercifully lining it up correctly and pushing _in_. Aziraphale sheathed his full length inside Crowley in one smooth motion, the stretch of it delightful. _Yes_, that’s _it._

Aziraphale began to thrust, and it scratched the itch inside Crowley so perfectly. Faster and faster, Aziraphale was panting over him, and Crowley forced his eyelids open to watch the angel’s blissed out face, cheeks ruddy, lips parted, and eyes screwed shut. Some of the frosty curls on his head were matted with sweat while others stuck straight up in disarray - a halo of sex.

Aziraphale pumped his hips at a quick, frenzied pace, one hand worked under Crowley's arsecheek and the other flat on the table, smashing a couple of biscuits. The fucking had become so vigorous that the table shook, another plate fell, the punch was sloshing around in the bowl, splattering across the tablecloth. Aziraphale’s cock beat relentlessly against that tender portion of vaginal wall that drove Crowley mad, pushing him beyond pleasure, his sex was so raw and overworked. He wrapped his legs around Aziraphale, pressing his heels against his lower back, urging him on.

Aziraphale’s face twisted and his hips stuttered as he drove in harder, deeper and came, grunting out a low, “Oh, _fuck_!” that spurred a final, weak orgasm from Crowley in response, whose wrung out body could only manage a few pleasant flutters.

They stayed joined together for a moment, catching their breaths until Aziraphale softened and slipped out. He pushed himself up and then helped Crowley off the table onto wobbly legs, guiding him to sit on the sofa, and then plopping down next to him. They were a rumpled mess and the table of food was ruined. Crowley was feeling a bit ruined himself, sore and worked over in a rather pleasing way. They sat next there in shocked silence until Aziraphale finally spoke.

“I, ah, don’t think it was the kids who left all of this here,” he said, a bit smug at being proven right.

“You don’t think?” Crowley chuckled weakly. “No, I reckon not.”

“Who, then? A demon? Seeking revenge for your audacity not to be destroyed by holy water?”

“Perhaps,” Crowley said, grinning at the angel. “A miserable attempt, if so. Enjoyed all this far too much for it to count as revenge, wouldn’t you agree?”

Aziraphale gave him a shy smile. “Quite so.” He cleared his throat. “Something in the food, then?”

“Likely.”

Aziraphale hummed. “I’m glad,” he said, looking pointedly away.

Crowley turned his head slowly towards Aziraphale, eyebrows up and the angel blushed.

“I-I just mean,” Aziraphale explained, “Well, we were headed in that direction anyway, weren’t we? Best to stop all the dithering and get on with it, right?”

_Well._ Crowley leaned over and trailed his fingers down Aziraphale’s chest, pausing to flick open each button.

“Right. But I think,” he purred, “we've been terribly unfair about it, wouldn't you say? I'm way ahead on the orgasm tally, and you know how I hate for our favors to be uneven.”

And so it was that a demon and an angel finally “got on with it.”

Coincidentally, peeking in the shop window were another angel and demon. The angel shook his head and rolled his eyes, grimacing in disgust.

“I knew it would work!” the demon said, grinning broadly.

“Ugh,” the angel said with a shudder. “I can’t believe you were right. Gross! Why would an angel sully himself like that?”

“Oh, come off it, goody-two-wingzzzz. It izzzn’t like you looked away! Now, pay up!”

Some sort of celestial currency changed hands, and the angel and demon pair parted ways, one disappointed, the other pleased, and both with quite a lot to think about.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HipHopAnonymou9)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://hiphopanonymousao3.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Big Spooky Fan, Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244361) by [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion)


End file.
